The man with green eyes, A story of a man Options

[Saquira]

The man with green eyes

“Oh him. Of course, you wouldn't know him, having just come to Skyrim. I'm so used to seeing him that I couldn't ever imagine someone not having met him. The Altmer calls himself Sorcalin, he's been around as long as anyone can remember. My father introduced him to me. I doubt there's anyone of importance in Skyrim whom he haven't met, except you of course. Perfect gentleman, and he owns a house out in the Rift. Though now that I think about it, I have never found out how he earned all of that money, or where he came from,”
- Jarl Balgruuf, 4E 201 21st Last Seed



Author's note:
So this is the story of Sorcalin, the Altmer mystery. Excerpts from his story anyway. I've had such an annoying writer's block lately concerning my other stories, so I've decided to publish some of the stuff that I actually have managed to write. Though I'm not sure if you'll like Sorcalin as much as I do, I certainly hope so.

So, in this first post I'll have an Index of what happens in my version of the elder scrolls universe, with links to the posts that are parts from Sorcalin's life. I won't be posting them in any kind of order, since not even I know exactly how old the guy is, and because this is a spur of the moment kind of thing. It's just lots of stuff that takes place in the Elder Scrolls universe and has one common thing in them, Sorcalin. I'll also write the dates that I upload and update the different parts, and I'm hoping that might help you to keep track of the parts better.

So well, I hope you like it. Ekali's story is still my priority, but the thing is that when I get an idea it's kind of hard to not write about it. Which means that I've currently got five stories in the Elder Scrolls universe that I'm working on. And that is pretty annoying, but there isn't much I can do about it. So, now there's the Index, and then there's the first part.



Index:

Original Characters - Post #9

New Currency: Thalms - Post #29

3E

253, 12th Sun's Dawn Part 1 - Elyzara Moorhart returns to life - Post #40 - 19/12-2013

253, 12th Sun's Dawn Part 2 - Elyzara speaks to Periene and Periene speaks to Morgan - Post #46 - 19/4-2015

377 – Prince Geldall Septim is born.

378 – Prince Enman Septim is born.

380 – Prince Ebel Septim is born. A relatively new member of the Mages Guild defeats Mannimarco and is appointed arch-mage.

380, 11th Sun's Dawn – A young mage meets the Count of Skingrad and Sorcalin for the first time when they save her life - Post #17 - 21/8-2012

383, 3rd Hearthfire - Sorcalin is hired by the emperor - Post #31 - 25/12-2012

384, 14th Rain's Hand - Sorcalin speaks to Tar-Meena - Post #7 - 29/6-2012

384, 3rd Sun's Height – Sorcalin speaks with Adrasteia for the first time - Post #20 - 26/8-2012

389 - Jagar Tharn takes over

389, 29th Hearthfire – Sorcalin escapes with the emperor's heirs from the Imperial City - Post #14 - 14/8-2012

390, 12th Sun's Dawn – Adrasteia, Sorcalin's wife, is killed by Jagar Tharn - Post #10 - 10/8-2012

390, 13th Sun’s Dawn - Sorcalin buries Adrasteia - Post #38 - 15/10-2013

432 – Felisa Serhas is arrested and meets Valen Dreth

433 – Felisa Serhas meets Gasheera and escapes from prison. She later kills the love of her life, Valen Dreth, and conspires with Sa'Quira to “make a hero” of Gasheera.

433, 10th Second seed – Roland Jenseric witness a vampire feeding on his beloved - Post #2 - 25/6-2012

434 – The Oblivion crisis is ended, the 3rd era ends. S'iniith and He-Twists-His-Tail meet and travel to the Imperial city together.

4E

1 – 3 The Mages guild breaks apart, forming the College of Whispers and the Synod.

199, 24th Frostfall – Sorcalin meets an old acquaintance - Post #34 - 4/5-2013

201, 10th Last Seed – Sorcalin investigate rumors - Index post - 19/6-2012

201, 21st Last Seed – Sorcalin first meets Ekali

201, 23nd Last Seed – Dar'Ilthi confronts Sorcalin - Post #24 - 31/8-2012

202, Unknown – Sorcalin relaxes together with Ekali - Post #24 - 31/8-2012


Sources:
http://www.imperial-library.info/content/third-era
http://www.imperial-library.info/content/calendar-tamriel
http://www.uesp.net/wiki/Lore:Jagar_Tharn


4E 201, 10th Last Seed

Maven Black-Briar had just dipped the quill in ink and was about to start writing when she could see, in her peripheral, that her personal guard had just frozen. The plant by the window no longer swayed, and the dust motes hung like from a spider-web in the air. Looking up, she was greeted by the sight of an Altmer in the leather armor usually worn by the Thieves guild. So she sighed, and moved the quill so that ink wouldn't drip on the papers in front of her.

“Why does every rumor-mongering scoundrel in the city speak of Saerdur's heading on an expedition into the mountains, when I'm certain that the Jarl put him in house-arrest?” he asked her as he walked up to one of the book-shelves and looked at the titles.

“And why would I know that?” she responded, watching him closely as he made his way around the room. The high elf turned to her with a smile.

“Why? You know everything that goes on in Riften, whether it's illegal or not.” Putting his hands on her desk, he leaned in close until their foreheads were a mere inch apart. Maven, though flustered, didn't flinch.

“A favor for a friend, you'll have to ask Dar'Ilthi if you want to know more. I didn't ask for the specifics,” she said, staring into his eyes with a grim expression.

“Maybe I'll do just that,” he said with another smile and stood up straight, making sure he hadn't dropped anything.

“It's a handy trick that, halting time,” she said in a bored manner, and he looked back at her.

“Why yes, I suppose it is.” He cast a glance at the guard. “Handy when you don't want anyone to know of your meeting.”

“Yes. Which is why you won't use it again.” She stared at him. He flashed a charming smile her way, and then he was gone, time back to normal.

The guard looked at Maven when she didn't write anything, and noticed the small puddle of ink that had collected on the desk. His brow furrowed in concern at this, as he was quite certain that puddle had not been there moments earlier. Then she turned her narrowed eyes at him, and he quickly resumed his former position.

:-:-:-:

Dar'Ilthi, being the Listener of the Dark Brotherhood, though having her chambers further into the sanctuary than any other guild-member, never trusted completely in her safety. So it was that when she felt the change in the atmosphere of her room, she did not become startled, but merely calculated the strength with which she'd have to throw the book she was holding. She was at that moment lying on her bed, in the process of reading a rather large tome. She could feel the bump of the ebony dagger underneath her pillow, and she was very much aware of who had just entered her private chambers, uninvited.

Throwing the book at him with her left hand, she simultaneously grabbed the dagger in her right a mere moment before she flew at him. While in the air she heard the magical discharge that meant his ward had been disabled for the moment and then she was on his chest on the floor, dagger up against his neck.

“Guildmaster,” Dar'Ilthi snarled after a minutes silence, before she stepped of him and pulled the high elf to his feet.

“Listener,” he responded and patted his clothing as if to get the dust of them.

“No need to do that here. We keep our floors clean, unlike some.” She was staring at him when he looked up, taking a moment to decide whether or not he should ignore the remark.

“One day, you're going to get me killed with those tricks of yours. I don't think Maven would like that very much.” His voice was as carefree as ever when he next spoke.

“On the contrary, I think she'd cheer me on.” Dar'Ilthis' comment brought a chuckle to the Altmer's lips. She smiled slightly herself, before her eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms. “What do you want?”

“Information. Why have Maven spread rumors that Saerdur Lawgiver is on a expedition to the Jerall Mountains, when he's clearly in house-arrest?” the man asked and leaned against the wall leisurely.

“Why do you care?” the Listener asked with a sigh, walking so that she could sit on her desk.

“I'm simply curious,” he answered.

“You're the one person I'm sure never is 'simply curious'.” Dar'Ilthi stared at him, taking her hair in her hands and braiding it over again.

“Nevertheless, I want to know,” he said with a smile that exposed his fangs. Merely glancing at them, Dar'Ilthi placed the dagger down onto the desk, and arose from it. She walked slowly up to him, one hand on her hip. With a sly smile, she then leaned in so that her mouth came close to his ear, something that was no easy feat thanks to his height.

“Are you sure I cannot discourage you from this?” she purred, putting one of her hands lightly on his arm.

“Quite.” The Altmer took her wrist in a hard grip to stop her from going further, and the seductive way in which she held herself was gone faster than it had come. They stood there, staring daggers at each other, for a few moments.

“Pity,” she snarled, wringing her hand from his grip, and stepped back a few steps. “It's family business, which means that it isn't yours.”

“Oh really, I wasn't aware that you had any family...” he trailed of with a smirk.

“Not all of us has centuries for a lifetime, who will remember me if I don't leave a legacy, hm?”

“I will. But then again I probably wouldn't go around talking about you,” the Altmer sighed. “Care to satisfy my curiosity yet?” She frowned.

“Not really, no. But I suppose that is the only way to get rid of your ugly face,” she smiled with her lips, while her eyes were still glaring.

“Naturally,” he answered her and winked, causing her to tilt her ears back slightly.

“I need to get my foster-daughter to Skyrim. She is a member of the Imperial legion, so the only way to get her here would be for them to send her. But because she's a forester, I doubt they'd send her to help with the war. Thus, I'm arranging to have her brought here,” Dar'Ilthi said, and the Altmer raised an eyebrow. “Her being accused for murder ought to be enough for the empire too hand her over.” The khajiit shrugged as if though it was the most natural thing in the world, and went to sit down on her desk.

“You're calling in favor's from Maven Black-Briar to have your foster-daughter brought to Skyrim?” he asked incredulously, and she shrugged again.

“It's important that she gets here.”

“Obviously.” The Altmer stood staring into the air for a few seconds before he shook his head and sighed.

“Well, I've ought to get going. Don't get your foot trapped in a bear-trap,” he said, and a moment later everything was back to normal, Dar'Ilthi alone in her room, shaking her head and sighing.

This post has been edited by Saquira: Apr 19 2015, 12:47 AM

[Saquira]

This scene follows almost directly after the one I posted back in December 2013, in which Elyzara Moorhart came out of the ground after being confined to a wooden box for two centuries. Sorcalin has about as much of a role in the second part as he did in the first, but this isn't just about Sorcalin's life any longer. It's also about the Moorhart siblings and the Glenmoril Coven. This scene is probably the last time Elyzara speaks with her brother before her death, and as complicated as the relationships between these three are I had a lot of fun writing this. However, I'm afraid only one of them will be surviving into the fourth era.

I'm working on two(three) more posts that might be seeing the light of day fairly soon. The first is the story of how exactly Sorcalin became a vampire and why he did not seek out a cure, which I'll probably be splitting into two parts since it seems to be getting quite long. And the second is a more in-depth description of the Glenmoril Coven in my version of the Elder Scrolls universe, as well as the specific abilities of the vampires who belong to the coven.

3E – 253, 12th Sun’s Dawn

Part 2

The sun was standing low in the sky by the time she approached the pavilion which her brother had apparently taken to using as his office. It was closed off from the rest of the building by a heavy wooden door, and in the time she’d been kept under ground no sign had been put up to tell that her brother had taken over the room. Only because Leon had told her did she now know that this was where her twin resided, and that thought stung no matter how she thought of it.

She knocked only twice on the door and did not wait for his call before stepping inside, and though she clearly heard his exasperated sigh at her manners she did not look at him as her gaze took in the old room.

Though the furniture and decorations had changed, the shape and layout of the room had remained largely the same over the last two hundred years. A short path lined by glass walls led out to the circular room that was almost completely encased in transparent glass panels to let in the light but prevent the rays from burning the inhabitants of the room. A couple of low bookshelves were placed by the walls, and a large desk faced the doors with a couple of chairs having been placed in front of it. A cupboard with glass panes in the doors held glasses and a few bottles of wine, and several pots with plants were placed around the room.

Finally, her eyes landed on him, and he was watching her openly with his crimson eyes. Periene had hardly changed in the many years since they’d last seen each other. His clothing was radically different of course, but his face was lined by the same smooth lines and he still held the same stature. He'd cut his red hair shorter since they last met, but his eyes were neither lighter nor darker, and he still made no effort to conceal them unless he had to. Now they watched her with far more wariness than she'd ever expected they could.

He was composed, pragmatic and had little patience for emotional fools. All traits she admired, none that she shared. And for that she loathed them as well. The only thing marking them as anything but polite acquaintances was their blood, as well as the status and physical traits that accompanied it. Though with the passing of two centuries her ambitious brother was certain to have far surpassed her when it came to their respective status within the coven.

“So, our mother's pavilion,” she stated simply as her eyes met his and he raised his eyebrows in a silent question. “I did not expect that it'd ever see much use.”

“Well, after our fathers death there truly wasn't much reason to keep it locked any longer,” he uttered, and Elyzara nodded slowly as she hummed in agreement.

“Indeed, Leon told me of that. He did not tell me of our sisters however, where are they?” she asked. Periene sighed, finally dropping the quill he held in his hand, and rested his elbows on the desk as he leant slightly forward.

“Lysee passed away in 127. She never wanted to become a vampire, and so she stayed human until the end. Morgan, the last time I heard from her some 23 years ago, was in Sentinel. Assuming of course that I remember correctly. I believe she was looking into acquiring some rare old book, she's always liked those after all.” Elyzara's lips pursed as she sunk down into one of the chairs in front of the desk, her eyes narrowing into a glare as they looked at each other.

“Lysee died of old age. You did not make her a vampire?” she asked angrily, her fury only increasing as her brother continued to watch her impassively.

“She did not wish to share our existence, and neither I nor Morgan were inclined to force the matter,” he said with a shrug, as if though that was all there was to it. But Elyzara was not so easy to appease.

“Morgan I can understand, she has always coddled our youngest sister. But you... I expected more from you,” Elyzara growled through gritted teeth as her brothers expression grew harder and his eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

“I would never perform such heinous an act as turning someone against their will, sister. We have our rules for a reason, and I've no intention of breaking them. You'd do well to follow them from here on out if you wish to stay out of that box.” Elyzara let out a startled laugh at his words, her lips forming a grimace as she rose from the chair abruptly to lean in over the desk.

“You would put me back there?! Your twin? Is this your way of telling me to stay away from Sorcalin, or else..?” she growled out.

“You may have been a vampire longer than him, but he's still older. And he hasn't spent the last two centuries in a wooden box. He would see you coming, and the coven would not only loose an asset, I would loose a sister. I will not let more of my family die,” Periene said, finally raising his voice in the first expression of anger he'd expressed for a very long time. But not even in the face of his anger did she falter.

“You think so little of me..? Is that it? Well I hardly need your blessing to shed blood, brother,” she spat out, not giving him any opportunity to speak as she pushed herself away from the desk and headed for the door. He considered stopping her, but gave it up as a useless endeavour as he settled back in his chair and she left through the door in a rage.

Periene found himself watching the door for a whole minute after his sister had once again passed through it, then he rolled his eyes to give voice to his frustration as he turned his eyes from the door to the small hand-held mirror lying upon his desk. He was already calling on the spell when his hand touched the silver frame, hushed words slipping from his lips without hesitation as the surface of the mirror grew murky. A couple of minutes passed while he sat waiting, until finally the reflective surface cleared and showed not his own face but instead a stone roof and a glimpse of bookshelves along the edges. The only sign of his discontent was the downward twitch of his lips as he had to wait yet another couple of minutes before a female face appeared above the mirror, looking down into it curiously. He noted the cropped brown hair and the smudge of ink upon her cheek with silent displeasure as her brows rose in surprise at the sight of him.

“You've cut your hair.” It occurred to Periene that it was not the best greeting he could have offered her, but he knew just as well that no amount of pretty words would enamour her to him. An annoyed expression came upon her face at the comment before turning into a faintly visible sneer as she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Indeed, I did it myself. Do you like it?” she asked mockingly, being more than aware of his views on the matter. Though he felt the slow burn of the anger only his youngest sister could call forth, he did his best to ignore it in light of the favour he wished to ask of her.

“Cropping ones hair is not...” He hardly had time to get started before she interrupted him.

“...Is not fitting for a lady of the Moorhart family, nor for a vampire of the Glenmoril coven. Did I forget any part of the lecture, or is there anything more you need to remind me of?” He pursed his lips, but refrained from answering. “Now, why did you call me brother? Is it 253 already?”

“You forgot what year it is?” he asked in disbelief, his brows furrowing as he looked at her. She visibly gritted her teeth, huffing out a breath as the view changed angle as she picked up her mirror and sat down in a chair.

“I've more important things to think about. What is a year here or there when you've got an eternity to look forward too? I assume however that you're contacting me to discuss Zara. Her sentence was settled at 200 years, was it not?” The brunette let go of her annoyance quickly, her face taking on the same neutral expression that tended to occupy his face most of the time.

“Indeed it was. And I just finished a pleasant conversation during which she could think of little else but the murder of her former beloved.” Periene found himself rolling his eyes as he lifted his mirror further and leaned back slightly in his chair, making sure that the mirror still captured his face.

“That sounds like Zara. What I don't understand is why you are coming to me.” Her voice hardly changed, her lips forming a slight genuine smile for barely a moment before the political expression was back.

“You were always able to rein her in, in the past. I believe the coven will require your aid in doing so once again,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders, and had to fight to keep his annoyance hidden when she rolled her eyes.

“And what makes you think I would wish to help the coven?” she asked with a sigh.

“You and I may not get along, sister, but we are still family. The coven is family.” Periene was once again reminded of why it'd been 23 years since they last spoke as he raised his hand to rub at his forehead in an attempt to stave of the inevitable head ache he'd come to associate with family. He looked back at the mirror just in time to notice the tight set of her jaw and the hateful glare in her eyes before she spoke once again.

“Then tell me brother, how many witches have the coven lost in last ten years? How many hagravens have been born? How many vampires of the Wyrd have succumbed to their blood lust and gone feral?” she practically growled out, and for a moment he almost expected her to bare her fangs at him.

“Morgan...” he began in exasperation, but she shook her head abruptly to stop him as his eyes lingered on the growing moisture in her eyes.

“Save your petty excuses, brother. I will tell Sorcalin she's coming for him. But I'll be doing it for him, not for the coven,” she ground out through her teeth and Periene nodded, content to take whatever small victory he'd ever be allowed to have by his younger sister.

“Very well. I'm certain that the elders will be grateful. I only wish you would not distrust us so,” he said, already thinking on the letters he'd have to send before the days end to tell the elders of what had transpired.

“Whatever trust I ever had for the coven disappeared a century ago, you know that.” When he once again turned his eyes to meet hers, neither the anger in her eyes nor the sorrow in his was concealed. He nodded once, not having anything else to say on the matter. The anger dissipated from her eyes quickly to be replaced by sadness. “Well brother. As I assume that was all you wished to speak of, I'll be going. Do take care of yourself.” She didn't give him any time to speak before the image disappeared and he found himself staring down at his own face.

“And you as well, sister,” he uttered quietly into the empty room, hand reaching out to put the mirror back down onto the desk. Then his elbows came to rest upon the wooden surface as he rested his head in his hands in a rare moment of weakness before once again schooling his expression and turning back to the many documents before him.

This post has been edited by Saquira: Jul 16 2016, 11:19 AM